Li'l Bat needs his Nap
by Dunyazade
Summary: Just another cute, sweet story about Clark and Bruce. NOT slash.
1. no time for naps

Li'l Bat needs his Nap

_Author's note/disclaimer: This one needs a lot of explaining. First of all, if you haven't read the Superman/Batman comic books #51 and #52, you need to. Buy them off the internet if you have to. They're only a couple of dollars. And I promise you won't be disappointed. The cuteness is really beyond amazing. Don't judge by the covers. _

_That said, this story is intended to be read by A) people who've read Superman/Batman #51 and #52, and B) people who haven't read those books but don't mind having the story spoiled for them. If you fit into one of those categories, proceed. _

_This is your final warning. Here there be spoilers! ! !_

_Now then. This three-part fanfic is a partial rewrite of the events in S/B #52. Some of the dialogue in part one is taken straight out of that issue. And here is our story thus far: In an effort to amuse Superman, Mxyzptlk has transported an adorable chibi-fied Justice League to Earth. Unfortunately, all the miniature versions of the villains have shown up as well. Batman gets stuck at the Hall of Justice babysitting the "Li'l Leaguers" while the rest of the Justice League rounds up the mini-villains…_

* * *

Act I: no time for naps

Watching the animated caricatures of his sidekicks run around on the screen, the two-and-a-half-foot tall Batman understood perfectly. He was a joke. _They_ were a joke.

They were a joke in this brutal, oversized world. That's why they were being held captive in the Hall of Justice, out of the way, while their larger and more serious counterparts dealt with the outbreak of villains in Metropolis. They were being treated like babies.

His eyes swept the room, where all of his Justice League companions were scattered about on the floor and on the furniture, curled up and _sleeping_. His mouth twitched. Maybe the larger Leaguers were right to treat them like babies. In this world, they _were _babies.

He glanced to his left and saw Superman's eyelids droop, his head nod.

Batman clenched his teeth. He'd had enough. He hopped down from the table he'd been sitting on, startling Superman in the process.

"Batman?" Superman's voice followed him. "Where're you going?"

Batman marched out into the passageway. "I can't just sit here," he grumbled. "Not when I know people are in danger."

Superman swooped through the air beside him. "But Batman, you need your nap!" he exclaimed, worried. "You know you'll run out of energy without it!"

Batman's expression didn't change. It _was_ nap time back on their world. And he _was_ feeling tired. But he'd already made up his mind.

"Open your eyes, Blue. In this world, there's no time for _naps_. You can sleep all you want if we ever get home."

Superman balled up one of his little fists. "_When_ we get home!" he corrected cheerfully. "Have _faith_, Batman!"

Ignoring him, and grumbling under his breath, Batman stalked away into the dark.

Superman's mouth squiggled into a shape halfway between a frown and a pout, and then he yawned. Pivoting in the air like a fat little toy plane, he flew back to the room where all his other comrades were already sleeping.

He circled the room once, low and slow, looking for someone to snuggle up with. He was sleepy and lonely. He missed Lois. And none of his fellow Justice Leaguers seemed to need his company at the moment, except of course for Batman, who _always_ needed his company even if he wouldn't admit it.

Unfortunately, Batman was unavailable…or was he? A tiny floating light bulb materialized above Superman's head, lighting up with an audible "bing!" as an idea occurred to him. Putting both his fists in front of him in classic Superman style, he zipped out of the room, leaving the light bulb to fade mysteriously into nonexistence.

The _big_ Batman was all alone right now too, and the little Superman had heard him grumbling about how he wished he hadn't been left behind to baby-sit them all. He was hunched over the control console when Superman found him, keeping a close eye on all the slumbering little Leaguers, emanating frustration and discontent.

"Hello," Superman said, touching down at the doorway.

Big Batman spun to face him. "I thought I told you to stay in the rec room," he growled.

Little Superman bit his bottom lip and defensively resorted to super-puppy-eyes.

Bruce was thoroughly unnerved, and for a second he thought that the little Superman might burst into tears—which was a scenario he was determined to prevent at all costs, since it was likely to bring the fury of the entire miniaturized Justice League down upon him. "What is it?" he asked immediately. "Do you need anything? More cookies? Glass of milk?"

"No," Superman replied, rubbing his eyes. "I'm just really tired."

"Well, I'm not surprised. You've had a busy day."

Encouraged by his less-than-infuriated tone, Superman floated into the air, drifted over to the big Batman, and settled onto his lap. His little shoulders heaved up, then down under their red cape, and before Bruce could think of anything to say, the little Superman leaned sideways, falling towards him. Bruce leaned back in surprise, until he ran into the back of his chair, which then partially reclined. The little Superman's head thunked heavily against his chest.

Batman looked down, stunned. There was the round head of black hair, the comically perfect S-curl, the inky-dark eyelashes, the button-like nose.

"Uh—are you alright?" Bruce asked abruptly.

The little Superman nodded, rubbing his cheek against Bruce's chest.

"Then…what are you doing?"

Superman blinked a few times, deciding that he really liked the slow, powerful sound of the big Batman's heartbeat. "I'm taking a nap," he said sleepily, and paused to yawn again. "You can stay awake if you want to." His voice wavered a bit, fading to a whispery mumble. "But since you have to stay here and watch all of us… by yourself… I figured I would… keep you company…"

Bruce wasn't sure what to do. He felt completely trapped by the red-caped bundle cuddled against him. And before he could reach any sort of conclusion about a course of action, the little Superman sank against him just a bit further, and began to emit tiny snoring sounds.

"zzzz… zzzz… zzzz…"

It was bewildering. And more than that, annoying. The real Superman, the big one, had said that these little guys came from a simpler, happier world, but a world where the entire Justice League curled up for a nap wherever and with whomever they pleased?? It seemed beyond ludicrous, and yet, from the evidence all around him on the monitor screens, that was exactly the case.

Just as Bruce had made up his mind to remove the sleeping Superman and put him down for his nap somewhere else, he realized two things: firstly, the super-powered sugar-buzz wouldn't be getting into any trouble as long as he was happily unconscious. And secondly, the little Superman was generating the same inexplicable _warmth_ that the big one did.

That phenomenon, combined with the little Superman's toddler-like size, evoked some hither-to untapped parental instinct within Bruce's heart, and without even thinking about it he wrapped an arm around the warm little body. It was like cradling a warm sandbag, only a living, breathing, snoring one. He was even _shaped _kind of like a sandbag or a sack of flour, round and solid, and comfortingly heavy.

And it wasn't exactly like he was hurting anything by being there.

Bruce decided to change his mind. It would be alright if the little guy stayed.

* * *

"A-_hem_." Bruce turned, looked up to see _his_ Superman standing in the doorway, not even trying to keep the grin off his face. Bruce was still protectively holding the fast-asleep little Superman against his chest.

"What?" Bruce frowned.

The big Superman managed to confine his laughter to a warm, rumbling cough. "Somehow, I get the feeling that this wasn't your idea."

"I'd rather have him _asleep_ than running amuck," Bruce declared. Superman stepped forward.

"Want me to take him?"

"Sure."

Clark reached down and picked up his miniaturized double, and Bruce tried not to feel the cold that immediately invaded the spot where the little body had been.

The little Superman stirred a bit but quickly relaxed and went back to snoring, his head resting against Clark's shoulder and one arm curled around Clark's neck.

Unsurprisingly, Clark looked completely comfortable holding the little guy. "So," he said, eyes scanning the monitors. "Where's little Bats?"

"I've been trying to find him," Bruce growled. "I know how he's thwarting the cameras. It's the same way that _I _would do it. But I can't figure out how to counter it. As long as he's playing cat-and-mouse with me, though, he can't be getting into too much trouble. Wait—there he is."

Bruce tapped a few keys and brought up the image. The little Batman was crouching over something on the floor in one of the hallways, studying it. He went to pick it up.

"What's he got there?" Clark asked.

Bruce's eyes narrowed. The item appeared to be a limp yellow flower.

"…Evidence," Bruce said darkly.

* * *

They intercepted him a minute later. "All right, you," Batman growled. "Time to go back to your room."

Superman looked down at the little Batman, his expression completely serious. "The League has the situation in Metropolis under control. But Luthor's little double is on the loose. It's not _safe_ for you out here," he clarified, hoping the little Bat would understand that the _big_ Bat wasn't just bossing him around for no reason.

But the little Bat just scowled at him. "Impressive. You're almost as dense as _my _Superman."

'His' Superman stopped snoring and woke up on Clark's shoulder, looking around in contented confusion. The little Bat continued: "Of _course_ it's not _safe_." He held up the flower he'd found. "This belongs to the _Joker_. It's loaded with--"

"_Be careful!_" Bruce practically shouted at him. "That's _acid!_"

Little Batman wasn't perturbed. "Acid?" he growled. "What's 'acid'?" He squeezed the flower, and some neon green liquid squirted from it onto the floor. "It's the Joker's trademark _soapy water_," the little Bat explained grimly. "It really _stings _when it gets in your eyes."

The so-called 'soapy water' began to sizzle its way through the floor, hissing. "Whoa," little Batman remarked, though he sounded less than impressed. "It's never done _that_ before."

Clark looked down worriedly at the little Bat. "It looks like your Joker is beginning to adapt to _our_ world."

By this time, the little Superman had managed to catch up on what he'd missed, and understood what it probably meant. He launched himself away from Clark, dive-bombing towards little Batman. "If that's true, then we have even less time than we thought!" he exclaimed.

Little Batman was way ahead of him, sprinting down the hall. "Look alive, big boys," he called out. "The bad guys are _here!_ If you don't want to help... feel free to take a _nap_."

Bruce and Clark watched him scamper away, his Superman zooming along over his shoulder like a little red kite. Once the miniature copies of themselves had rounded the corner, the 'big boys' looked at each other.

Batman had never looked so completely irritated. Clark grinned at him. "…So," he said, knowing it was no time to be joking around but unable to resist the opportunity. "About this 'nap' thing…"

"Maybe later," Bruce growled at him. "If you promise you don't snore as much as the little one."

Clark shook his head, chuckling, and Batman took off down the hall in pursuit of his pint-sized doppelganger. Stepping off the ground and gliding through the air, Clark followed at his heels.

...to be continued...


	2. exactly the same

_Author's note/disclaimer: Brace yourselves for more spoilers. What happens next in the comic book is that they find the little villains and a battle ensues. Thanks to something that Li'l Luthor did, Li'l Doomsday grows into Big Doomsday, and Li'l Superman flies him up into space, where he explodes, killing Li'l Superman. Clark brings the dead Superman back to the Hall of Justice, and after the other Li'l Leaguers realize what has happened, Mxyzptlk appears and takes them all back to their own world and that's the end. _

…_Deep breath now. I hated the fact that they killed off Li'l Superman. But even more than that, I hated how they swept all his little friends back to their own world as soon as he was dead. Big Bats shared some consoling words with Li'l Bats and then they all just disappeared. There was no satisfaction in that ending whatsoever. The rest of this story is my attempt at correcting that.

* * *

  
_

Act II: exactly the same

They carried the lifeless little body to the medical lab, wrapped in the big Superman's cape. The larger versions of the League members talked quietly amongst themselves, discussing possible courses of action with grim and worried faces, while their smaller copies huddled together in groups of three and four, crying, comforting each other, and crying some more.

Only the little Batman was isolated and silent, pushing a chair across the floor so that he could stand on it, posting himself as a somber guard at the dead Superman's side. From his expression it seemed he was determined to disapprove of anything that anyone suggested.

Perhaps sensing this, everyone –big and small– stayed well clear of the little Bat. Only the miniaturized Wonder Woman dared to speak to him, and was rudely rebuked for her efforts.

An hour passed, and the little Leaguers began to seem listless and even more distraught. Wally correctly diagnosed that they needed another snack, and patiently herded them all to the cafeteria despite their grief-stricken protests that they weren't hungry. Agreeing that it was time to focus on caring for the survivors, most of the big League members filed out with their little doubles.

Little Batman kept his face and his posture rigid, but his glare was drawn to the last two giants in the room. The big Bat's back was turned to him, one solid wall of impervious gloom, while the big, living Superman had one hand on his hip and the other on his chin, and nodded a bit as his Batman muttered to him.

Finally, the little Bat overheard the big one say, "I'll take care of it," and the big Superman nodded again. Then he looked over at little Batman, looking straight through his ferocious mask, and the little Bat felt for an instant that he would suffocate in the sympathy that the oversized hero projected towards him.

Needing to fight, he bared his teeth. "_What are you looking at?_" he half-shouted, lashing out.

Clark winced.

"This is your fault!" little Batman accused. "If you're so much bigger and stronger, why couldn't you be _faster?_ Why didn't you save him?"

"I wish I had," Clark replied, his voice low. "I'm sorry."

Little Batman shook his head. "I don't care!" he exclaimed. "This is _your_ world!" He looked down and then back up, seething with conviction, and pointed to the body beside him. "This should be _you!_"

The tears fell at last, slipping out under his mask, and Clark moved towards him—but Bruce stuck out an arm, holding him back.

Bruce narrowed his eyes, glanced over his shoulder at the little Bat. "You're angry," he stated. "You'll blame yourself next if you haven't already."

"_Shut up_. You know I'm right. _Your_ Superman might've even survived it!"

"_Superman_ gave his life for his friends," Bruce rumbled, although from his annoyed reaction Clark could tell that he had indeed been thinking the very same thing. "He did what he had to do. Maybe what he was always _meant _to do. That's who he is."

"But then who am _I?_ What am _I_ 'meant' to do?" the little Batman demanded.

"You're meant to _suffer_," Bruce told him frankly. Clark gave him a look, which he stubbornly didn't acknowledge. "…and to survive," Bruce continued, "and to get stronger, and to never give up, and to never forget."

The little Batman bowed his head, his chest heaving under the google-eyed bat symbol on his costume. His fat little hands clenched into fists. "It's still your fault," he growled, and then his voice broke, and it wasn't clear who he was talking to anymore. "_It's all your fault_."

Superman had rarely felt as infinitely powerless as he did in that moment. The little Bat was right, of course. If it had been _him_ instead, if he'd gotten to the monster first…

Clark sighed. "Bruce. I think we should--"

"No," Bruce cut him off, and without looking at Clark, he tilted his chin towards the exit. "You should go."

"I just want to--"

"I said I'd take care of it," Bruce told him, his voice harsh. "Go."

Clark took a breath, exhaled through his nose, and reluctantly turned to leave. At the door he took one more look at little Batman, hunched over the red-shrouded body.

For the hundredth time he scanned the dead Superman using every means he could think of. But the result was the same. There was no sign of life.

_Yet_, he told himself firmly, setting his jaw.

_Yet.

* * *

  
_

Bruce stood still for a minute after Clark left. Then he approached the body on the table, enduring the distrustful glower of his counterpart. "I'm going to put him in a containment unit," Bruce explained, reaching for the red cape.

"You'll leave him alone!" the little Bat snarled, angrily wiping his tears with the back of his fist.

"We're going to keep a sun lamp on him too," Bruce said.

The little Bat sneered at him. "What do you think he is? A geranium?"

Bruce ignored his sarcasm. "It should make it easier for him if he decides to come back," he said, suddenly catching the little Bat's full attention.

Little Batman was quiet for a minute. "…_Come back?_" he asked at last, his bottom lip quivering.

"There's no guarantee," Bruce warned darkly. "And for _humans_, there usually isn't even a possibility. But for _him_..."

The little Bat looked like he was being torn apart by equal tides of hope and disbelief. "…there _is_ a chance for Superman to come back… back _to life?_"

As if he couldn't quite bring himself to acknowledge such a thing aloud, the big Bat confirmed it with a terse nod of his head. "That's what _my_ Superman wanted to tell you. He was dead once. Or at least, we all thought he was. But he came back."

Little Batman digested that for a minute, his eyes solemnly locked on the sun-gold 'S' shield on the cape covering his friend. Then he narrowed his eyes, and glared at Bruce, challenging him.

"If that's true, then why aren't you _happier_?"

Bruce's voice hardened, if that was possible. "Superman isn't the only one in this world that I've had to mourn."

The little Bat scowled, confused, and then suddenly it dawned on him.

"…your parents."

"_Didn't_ come back. But Superman _did_. And I thought you should hear it from me," Bruce continued, "because you need to be able to accept that it might not happen this time. This might be _it_. He might be gone forever. And you have to be ready to _cope_ with that."

Fresh tears leaked out from beneath his mask, which he suddenly tore off, revealing his face.

Bruce froze as those huge fiery-blue eyes looked up at him, lashes wetly exaggerated. Unnervingly, the little Bruce looked a lot more like a _young_ Bruce than a miniature grown-up Bruce.

Alfred had told him once that there'd been something _frightening_ about his eyes when he was a child, especially when he was upset, and for the first time Bruce was sure that he understood exactly what Alfred had been talking about.

It was hard to place the exact feeling. It wasn't quite _dread_… it was almost just an _awareness_ of the possibility that a demon could be lurking in those angelic depths.

"…I'm going to miss him," little Bruce confessed.

Big Batman was glad that he still had his own mask on at that point, to hide the wetness that began to blur his vision. He nodded.

"…I know."

* * *

It was late. Clark had just finished tucking in the tiny copy of Supergirl. The bigger Supergirl was staying with her for the night, and all the other little Leaguers were safely bedded down, with their closest friends around them and their larger counterparts to watch over them.

It had been a few hours since Clark had seen either version of Batman, and he was on his way to check on both of them when he happened to see the taller one stalking towards the hangar.

"Hey!" Clark called out, hurrying to catch up. "Batman!"

"_What?_" Bruce barked, not looking at him.

Clark's eyebrows flinched worriedly. "How are you?" he asked, falling into step beside him. "I mean, it was kind of a rough day. Are you alright?"

"_Hrn_," Bruce grunted.

"Well, how's _little_ Batman?"

"He's right where you left him. Just give him time. And leave him alone."

Clark gave Bruce a look, and dared to ask. "…what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!" Bruce exploded, exactly as Clark sensed that he might. "It's not _your_ fault that his Superman's dead. It's not _my_ fault and it's not _his_ fault and it's not even _that _Superman's fault. It's not little Luthor's fault or Doomsday's fault or Mxyzptlk's fault. It's just a fact of history. A fact of the universe. _You_ can't change it. _He_ can't change it. Nobody can change it."

"Bruce... what happened?"

"Nothing _happened._" Bruce insisted, striding forward determinedly. "We took care of the body. I talked to him."

"I hope you went easy on him. It's his first time grieving."

"Doesn't matter," Bruce argued, as if trying to convince himself. "That little punk has been Batman in _his_ world for as long as _I _have in this one."

"You know it's different."

"Not anymore. Now that he's lost someone it's exactly the same."

Suddenly Clark knew what it was. Batman, _big_ Batman, six-foot-two Batman, _his_ Batman, had been crying. He wasn't sure exactly _how_ he knew. There were probably half a dozen complex scientific explanations for how his super-powered senses led him to that conclusion, but he didn't need to think about them now. He just _knew_.

And he knew exactly what Bruce was up to: he was going to jump in his plane, and fly down to his cave, and brood in it all alone, occasionally hollering at Tim or Alfred, until the opportunity arose for him to bloody his knuckles against the teeth of some leering psychopath somewhere deep in the cancerous guts of his city.

Clark reached out and caught Bruce's arm. Enraged, Bruce spun to face him, looking directly at him for the first time since the other Superman had died. "_What _are you—"

Clark hugged him.

There was always that split-second of reaction to overcome, the instinctive onset of the fight-or-flight reflex, in response to an unexpected embrace. This time, Clark was extra-careful not to cheat, _not_ to be super fast or super strong at first, to allow Bruce the chance to escape if he really wanted to.

He didn't.

He stood still as Clark took note of the fact that he wasn't going to fight, and quickly adjusted so that now Bruce _couldn't_ escape even if he changed his mind. He was trapped, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, so he closed his eyes over Clark's shoulder and accepted it.

"It'll be ok," Clark said, repeating what _everyone_ said after tragedy struck. There was almost nothing else he _could _say… but that didn't mean Bruce wasn't thankful to hear him saying it.

Clark took a breath, and Bruce felt his ribs press against the Kevlar plate.

The pressure eased. "…Sorry," Clark said right away, releasing him. "But I think you needed that."

"Clark," Bruce said, his tone starting out dangerously reproachful but then immediately softening. "I need you to _not die_. Ever again."

...to be continued...

* * *

_A/N: one more chapter to go… and I'm anxious to hear what you think so far. Writing sad stuff is definitely not my thing! :(  
_


	3. out of energy

Act III: out of energy

Little Batman pressed his palm to the glass. Even through his glove, he could feel the cold. The big Batman had told him that it _had_ to be cold, that it would keep Superman's body 'safe.' But what if it was _too _cold? Superman was never cold. Not even in his icy fortress.

The room was dark, with only the modest sun-lamp providing light, directly over the semi-cylindrical glass casket. They'd unwrapped the little Superman from the big one's cape, and so now everyone could see how dead he looked, his face innocently expressionless, his skin colorless despite the yellow lamp.

By this point, little Batman was thoroughly exhausted. But he refused to leave his self-assigned post, standing on the chair beside Superman's body. He was halfway resolved to wait there until a miracle happened. If he was just patient enough, just _determined_ enough, if only he had enough _willpower_, enough… faith.

_Faith_. He'd put his cowl back on earlier, and the thought of that word made a grim, grief-filled frown stretch out beneath it. Faith was Superman's word.

He _would_ have faith. And he would stand watch, for as long as it took.

Occasionally he almost convinced himself that Superman looked like he was just asleep. But it was a lie. He didn't look like that when he was asleep. For one thing, if he was asleep he usually curled up on his side, or sprawled out on his stomach, and he usually had his mouth open, snoring or drooling just enough to get teased about it by the other League members.

Now he was… now he was… now, Batman wouldn't ever hear him snoring again, or have to kick him to get him to stop unconsciously hogging the best spot on the couch in the rec room. Like a waterfall, thoughts of all the little things that he would miss about Superman poured into his mind. He'd miss his voice. Miss his exclamations of "great!" and "neat!" and "wowie!" …He'd miss his eternal optimism, his unparalleled loyalty. He'd even miss the soft, ruffling _whoosh _sound of him flying.

Suddenly the little Batman felt a chill go down his spine. Just as he'd thought of the sound, he'd _heard _it. Had he imagined it? Had he gone crazy already? No.

His eyes narrowed to deadly slits.

"Hey," Clark said from the doorway.

"Get lost!" the little Bat shouted at him. "I don't want your pity!"

"Actually I was just hoping I could keep you company," Clark said.

The little Bat hunched his shoulders defensively.

"…the other Batman told me I should leave you alone," Clark continued, approaching with caution.

"If _that_ Batman and I are anything alike, then he's probably _right_ and you probably should've listened to him," the little Bat growled, turning his back on Clark to look down at his friend again. His mouth squiggled unhappily, and he rested his forehead against the glass, defeated. "…but if _you're_ anything like _him_, then I know you'll just follow your heart, no matter what anyone says."

Clark stepped up next to the little Bat. "I think Superman would want me to be here," he said solemnly.

Little Batman wiped his face on his arm. "It… it's _cold_ in there," he said, sniffling.

Clark nodded. "It's all right. That's how it's supposed to be."

Little Batman looked up at him. "Were you… cold… when you were dead?"

"No," Clark said, smiling. "Well, I suppose my body was, but I didn't feel it. Not while I was dead."

"What was it like?"

Clark placed his hand on the glass and looked down at the little Superman's face, pale, expressionless, blank. Dead. "That's a good question," he sighed. "I'm not sure if I remember. But I think… it was like a dream."

"Dreams can be _bad_," the little Batman said immediately.

"Mine wasn't." Clark smiled again at the half-memory.

Little Batman drew a ragged breath, and tried to square his shoulders, but they crumpled forward again. "Maybe it _is _my fault," he said, morose. "It was such a stupid little thing but my, my _attitude_ got in the way—I should have listened to him. I should have taken my nap. Superman warned me that I would run out of energy and I knew he was right but I ignored him. He was only looking out for me. He always cared about me more than anyone. And I never told him how much I--"

He stopped, choked up, and Clark put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," he said. "He knew."

Wordlessly the little Bat turned towards him, buried his face against his side.

His strong little arms were too short to reach all the way around Clark's waist, but he held on tightly to all he could hold.

Clark looked down at the defiant little bat-ears, the brave, round little shoulders under their menacing black mantle. "Listen…" he said after a moment. "I can tell that you're tired. Everyone else is asleep already. Let's go--"

"I am _not _leaving him," the little Bat growled against Clark's side.

"It'll be all right," Clark assured him, rubbing his back. "He'd want you to get some rest. Big Batman left already but you can stay with me."

"I'm staying _here._"

Clark couldn't help but smile at the familiar-sounding stubbornness in his tone. "Okay," he said softly, relenting. The little Bat offered no resistance as Clark reached down and picked him up, sitting down on the chair that the little Bat had been standing on. "We'll stay here."

Little Batman sighed, his limbs loose and his head resting against Clark's chest. With narrowed eyes, he stared at the little dead Superman under the stark yellow lamp.

"…and I won't go back," he muttered after a minute.

"…what?" Clark asked him.

"To my world." Little Batman clarified. "I won't go back there without him. I _can't_."

Clark considered that for a minute, and then his brow creased in concern. "But all the little villains… your Justice League… I know your world _needs_ a Batman."

"My world needs _Superman_," the little Bat declared. "It's _this_ world that needs _me_. This…dark…giant world. This world of _pain_ is the world that needs a Batman."

Clark's eyes crinkled at the edges, and somehow he knew that the little Bat knew what he was about to say: "…and we've already got one."

The little Bat was silent. "…yes," he conceded at last. "And I… might not _measure up_ to him. But I can't go back. After this… nothing will be right. How am I supposed to tell his _Lois?_"

That was as sobering a question as Clark had ever heard. He tightened his arms a bit across little Batman's back. Took a breath, raised his eyebrows. "Hopefully, when Superman comes back, you won't have to."

"_Hmf_. That's exactly the sort of optimistic thing _he'd_ say… But I _know_ I have to tell her, somehow. That's… the first thing I'll need to do…"

"…After you get some sleep," Clark finished for him, sensing that the little Bat was drifting off.

Little Batman shifted, semi-consciously snuggling against Clark. His eyes blinked and then finally closed.

"It's funny," he mumbled, and then his voice trailed off into silence. "You're…_just as warm as…_"

* * *

They were both awoken a few hours later by the door to the lab creaking open. Clark blinked a few times and looked up to see a hulking bat-eared silhouette in the doorway. And then he heard the gasp of a slightly higher-pitched but still unmistakable voice from somewhere in the vicinity of the bat-eared silhouette's knees:

"_Clark?_"

There she was, with her dark hair parted to the side and tucked neatly behind one of her perfect little ears.

"…I knew I had to tell her," big Batman muttered.

"Lois," Clark said, sitting up straighter.

The little-more-than-two-feet-tall Lois shuddered and stepped backwards, as if to hide behind the big Batman's cape. She stared up at Clark with one expression on her face:

Horror.

More than anything, he hated to see her scared. The fact that the reaction of most of the other miniaturized females to encountering giant versions of their men had been along the lines of instant infatuation rather than _fear _only made it worse. "oh, Lois-- don't be afraid," he pleaded right away, getting to his feet. The little Batman literally leapt out of his arms, landing gracefully on the floor with scarcely a flutter of his cape.

"It's all right," the little Bat said solemnly. "He's a friend."

Lois looked from Clark to little Batman with uncertain eyes, and then looked up at the bigger Batman for confirmation. Big Batman nodded, and Clark watched in awe as she steeled her nerves the very same way that _his_ Lois did—that determination in her face, that _glint_ in her eyes—the resemblance was downright uncanny.

"…It's good that you're here," the little Bat continued quietly. "Now we have to capture Mxyzptlk."

"Done," big Batman growled, and dragged a bound-and-gagged Mxyzptlk into view. The yellow-and-purple clad imp wasn't even struggling, and in fact had tears streaming down his cheeks. He was trussed up with three glowing cords: one white, one neon blue, and a golden one which had almost certainly been borrowed from Wonder Woman.

The little Bat nodded once, business-like and stern. "Good work," he complimented the larger version of himself.

"What happened to _Clark?_" Lois asked urgently, demanding the little Bat's attention. Her eyes flicked up and briefly met big Superman's, and then refocused on little Batman. "_My_ Clark."

Little Batman took a breath and was about to tell her when Superman stepped out of the way--and she saw for herself. Her voice hitched in her throat, a small, desperate sound.

"--_No._" She pushed past little Batman and before anyone could offer to help her she climbed up onto the chair beside the body and pressed her hands to the glass. "Clark, _no_." For a moment she fought the tears, her shoulders trembling, her hands slowly curling into fists. "You _can't_," she said breathlessly. "You can't be… "

Big Batman hated being a helpless observer. He tightened his hold on his fifth-dimensional prisoner, who whimpered through his gag in response. "Listen to me," Bruce growled at Mxyzptlk. "Technology exists, in this world, in this reality, that helped to bring Superman back to life once before. Recreate that science here and apply it _now_. Make it work. Bring him back."

Mxy shook his head, and Bruce ripped the gag from his face. "I already _told_ you!" Mxy blubbered. "He's dead—his _soul_, departed! I can _reanimate_ his corpse, like a _zombie_-- but is that really what you want? I'm sorry… I can't do it!"

Suddenly Lois whipped her head around, glaring at all of them. "Open this up," she commanded, pounding one of her little fists against the glass over the body. "Now!"

"It won't do any good," little Batman muttered.

Lois stared directly into Clark's eyes. "_Please_."

Clark couldn't help but obey. He unlatched the glass canopy, lifted it up.

Bravely, little Lois reached for the dead Superman's hand. Grasped it.

And that was all it took.

Clark did a triple take and nearly lost his balance as he saw his little double's eyes crack open. As badly as he wanted to believe it, he almost _couldn't_—there was still no heartbeat, _nothing_.

"Hi," the dead Superman said, his voice feeble. "Lois. I missed you."

Both of the Batmans looked from Mxyzptlk to Clark and back. "What's happening??" they demanded in unison.

"I missed you too," Lois said, tears dripping from her eyelashes. "I thought you were gone."

"I think… I think I'm _supposed_ to go," little Superman admitted. "But I knew I had to find you first. You were too far away… and I want… you to come with me. So we'll always be together."

Lois took a deep breath. "Clark. I don't understand what you're talking about, or why this is happening, but I _do_ know that we don't belong here—so if you have to go someplace, of course I'll go with you. _Anywhere_."

"WAIT!" Everyone turned to look at little Batman, who stomped over and hauled himself up onto the chair beside Lois. Furious, he glared down at the dead Superman, who gazed placidly back up at him.

He pointed directly at little Superman's cute little nose, emphasizing each word with an accusatory jab. "Don't. You. Dare," he snarled. "Don't you _dare_ try to start your eternity early. Maybe you two _do_ deserve to be together forever in your own little heaven and that's _wonderful_. But don't leave _now_, Clark. And don't leave _m_…"

His mouth squiggled into an uncooperative line, protesting the act of voicing that sentiment. But his brain knew it was too late. It was already out there; he might as well finish the sentence.

"…_me_."

"That's enough," big Superman said, his voice overriding the little Bat's. "That's _more_ than enough." He glared down at the cowering Mxyzptlk. "I don't know _where_ you think Superman's soul is right now but it's _got_ to be close by. Either _you_ start his heart beating again, or I will."

"Okay _okay_, everybody calm down!" Mxy begged, shrinking away from all the eyes glaring at him. "I'll _do_ it. The three-dimensional _science _way, just like the good detective ordered. Stand back. Lois, darling, let go of his hand for a second."

"Not a chance," Lois declared, holding the dead Superman's hand with both of her own.

Mxyzptlk sighed, and then cringed as both versions of Batman began to snarl at him. "Fine! Here goes--"

Gold-white electricity snapped through the air. The opened glass canopy shattered, the bulb in the sunlamp burst with a shower of sparks, and little Lois screamed. And suddenly everything went dark.

* * *

Big Batman opened a panel on the wall and pressed a button. When the emergency lighting came online a few seconds later, it revealed Mxyzptlk passed out on the floor and big Superman holding little Lois in his arms, having been unable to stop himself from swooping her out of harm's way when she'd cried out.

Little Superman's eyes were closed again, his body motionless.

"…_Clark?_" little Batman asked, ending the silence that had descended upon the scene. Unless big Clark was much mistaken, the miniature version of Bruce sounded achingly _hopeful_.

And then Clark heard the beat of a strong little heart, slow at first, but quickening until it was steady and fast—like a child's, only deeper somehow, _distinct_. "It _worked_," he announced, dissipating the weight of everyone's unasked questions.

Impatient, little Batman reached out and shook little Clark's shoulder.

"…Hi," little Superman said again, waking up alive this time. "Batman. What hap--- _where's Lois??_" he asked, as if suddenly remembering something of utmost importance.

"Clark!" Lois called, stretching her arms towards him. He sat up, took one look at the situation—_big _Superman holding little Lois—

"_Hey!_" he shouted, blue eyes blazing. With his cape streaming out to the sides like the wings of a tiny red fighter jet, he launched himself into the air and zoomed into action.

Understanding, Clark opened his hands, only to find that little Lois had already been whisked out of them.

The happily reunited Lois and Clark were hugging in mid-air, generating a flurry of inexplicable little red hearts, which floated a few feet above their heads, balloon-like, before vanishing with cheerful little popping sounds.

"Clark, I felt so _sad_-- don't ever do that to me again!" Lois was saying. She wrapped her legs around his waist, which instantly made his cheeks turn a brightly embarrassed pink.

"Lois!" he protested, between cute little smooches. "You're wearing a _skirt!!_"

In an identical motion both Batmans _"grmf"_ed and turned their faces away to avoid an accidental glimpse up little Lois's skirt. And in a further display of like-mindedness, they then focused their attention on the unconscious fifth-dimensional imp.

Big Batman crouched down beside Mxyzptlk as little Batman nudged him with his boot. "Mxy," little Batman said. "Snap out of it."

"oh, _believe_ me, I _would_ if I could," Mxy moaned, reviving. "But these blasted _ropes_…"

"I'll untie you as soon as you _swear_ that your first action upon being freed will be to take all these little ones back to their own world," big Batman growled. "But _first_…"

Batman's voice was so harsh that Mxy winced, but when he dared to look, he saw that Batman was—well, he wasn't exactly _smiling_, but for once he didn't look the least bit pissed off. "…I want to say thank you."

"Thank you," little Batman chimed in gravely, as if on cue.

"C'mon, Bats," Mxy said, flustered. "It's not like I _wanted_ Li'l Blue to _stay dead_, you know... and all I did was _re-energize_ his body-- it was all of _you_ who managed to reel in his soul."

"Still," little Batman grumbled. "If you hadn't helped, it might've taken weeks or months for us to get him back, if we got him back at all. So… we're grateful."

By now little Lois and Clark had landed on the ground and were standing side by side, holding hands. "That goes for us, too," little Clark said, beaming. "Thanks, Mxy."

Mxy blinked a few times, and a genuinely happy smile, completely free of mischief, lit up his face. "Well then… you're welcome."

Little Batman turned to his much larger counterpart. "We're grateful to you as well," he stated. "To you and your world's overgrown Justice League." He hesitated, and then looked up at big Superman. "But I want to thank _you_ most of all," he said.

"Me?" Clark asked, taken aback. "But I didn't do anything."

"You were there when I needed you," little Batman explained. "And you helped me to have faith. Just like you always do."

Clark felt rather compelled to reach down and scoop the little Bat up for a hug, but the shorter Superman beat him to it.

"Aww," little Superman said, closing in on his Batman with open arms and a great big grin.

"Get away from me," the little Bat growled, dodging him. "There's been entirely too much hugging and cuddling going on lately. I've had enough of it."

Little Superman stopped, eyebrows high. "_Really?_" he asked. "But… _I_ haven't gotten to hug you, in…" he looked up for a minute, calculating, and then looked back down, determined. "_Four_ whole days!!" he exclaimed.

Little Batman frowned, and then sighed. "All right," he grumbled. He stepped in close, wrapped his arms around little Superman's sides. "…Four days _is_ a pretty long time," he conceded.

Little Superman scrunched his eyes closed in happiness and hugged the little Bat until his feet nearly came off the ground.

In this midst of this scene, Clark dared to glance over at Bruce.

Bruce's eyes were narrowed to unreadable slits, but Clark was pretty sure that Bruce was looking in his direction. He shrugged. "Like I said, they're from a simpler, happier world."

"But not the _real_ world," Bruce countered. "Like _I _said."

"It's real enough for us," little Superman said cheerfully, releasing his hold on the little dark knight's ribcage. "And, if it's all right with you, I think we're ready to go back!"

Little Lois and little Batman nodded in agreement.

"Mxy?" big Batman growled.

"I swear!" Mxy piped up. "First thing I'll do is take them all home. Promise."

Satisfied, big Batman freed Mxyzptlk from his bonds. The gaudy imp did a somersault in the air, and with the _poing!_ of a spring being sprung, he disappeared.

Little Superman, Lois, and Batman were already starting to fade from reality. "Thanks again!" little Superman called out, waving. "It was really awesome to meet you!"

"Goodbye," said the little Bat, looking up at Clark.

And then they were gone.

* * *

Clark and Bruce heaved simultaneous sighs, and then spent nearly a minute in awkward silence, not looking at each other, until at last Clark turned his head.

"…Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"No," Bruce grunted. "But I do need to say one thing…What that little Batman said to you…goes for me too."

Clark smiled, and clapped his hand down on Bruce's shoulder.

And didn't have to tell him that he already knew.

The End!


End file.
